


With Red In Low

by ThoseFiveChicks



Series: Grace's Magical AU [1]
Category: Maggot Boy
Genre: I can't end anything, I got to have so much fun with the HAIR for this universe, M/M, and looking at it makes me want to write more of it, dammit, i hate everything, in order of writing rather than actual chronology, magical au, this AU was my pet, ugh title, whoops, you would not believe the prompts for this if I told you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:38:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1894236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoseFiveChicks/pseuds/ThoseFiveChicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The low house was never pretty, but this was especially true for Red mages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Red In Low

 

“I am going to rip out his spine and wear it as a _necklace_ ,” Owen growled, storming into the dorm. He was glowing softly, but in cases of rage like this, it was to be expected.

“Who is it this time?” asked Parker, barely glancing up at his boyfriend from the little stone he was shaping into a staff decorative. The Red mage tended to live up to the profile of his Type— headstrong, easily angered, quick to cool down except in cases of long-held grudges, which were hard to form and even harder to lose— so exclamations like this?

Hardly anything new, and by now the Blue mage was so used to it that anything below 'brain stem as a decorative' barely even registered.

“That  _asshole_ Carville, or whatever the fuck his name is.” Owen flopped down on his bed, dropping his gloves onto the floor.

Parker was smarter than to ask what had happened, whatever it was would be recounted to him in dozens of ways before the moon came up, whether he asked for the story or not, and if Owen wasn't telling, he wasn't asking.

“I think his spine's a bit big for a necklace,” Parker commented mildly, digging the energy around his thumb into the stone.

“Belt, then. Either way. His spine. My jewelry.”

Finally looking up from the stone, Parker noticed something out of the ordinary— the glow wasn't fading. Normally, when Owen stormed in angry, he ranted for a minute or two, and slowly stopped glowing as his anger faded. He didn't curl up like this, and the glow didn't maintain. Actually, if anything, this glow was getting stronger.

Right, Green in its power house, Red in its low.

Right.

Every Type had its good and bad, and the houses were one of those things. The comets that influenced each Type's magic moved through different positions in the sky, the eight major houses of power. For example, at that moment, Green mages were on fire with power, some literally, happy and excitable and ready to drop everything for a friendly brawl at any given second. Red mages, on the other hand, were in their low house, volatile and easy to upset but with little power to do anything about it.

Which was why only a complete idiot tried to room same Types together.

“Hey,” said Parker, going to sit next to Owen. “You okay?”

“I'm fine.”

“You sure?”

“I'm absolutely fucking fine, okay?” Owen snapped, sitting up.

Parker shook his head.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, okay? He's just an asshole.”

“I know he's an asshole.”

“Fucking Green mage.”

Right, and then there was that. Each Type had a strength when it came to magic, and for Green mages that strength lay in Empathy. Seemed innocent enough, but when you had an asshole like Carville, it turned into a tool to manipulate and aggravate. And with Green in its power house...

“What did he do?”

“No, that's the fucking problem, he didn't  _do_ anything. Just said stupid shit.”

“So what did he say?”

“I told you, it was just  _stupid_ shit,” Owen repeated, voice shaking. 

Soft glow wasn't 'angry.'

How the hell had he forgotten that, when he and his classmates had started presenting Types and glowing nearly a year ago? They'd started learning about the glows in Health and Healing when they were  _children_ , he'd been taking tests and asking dumb questions about them for ages.  _Harsh_ glow for anger, soft glow was  _ upset _ or on the verge of tears, if not actually crying.

Parker didn't say anything, just pulled Owen into his lap.

“Get off of me,” Owen complained, feebly pushing at Parker's hands around his waist.

“No,” Parker replied, kissing the top of Owen's head. The bright red that had come in after Owen specialized had by now taken over all of his hair, just a tiny bit of the original brown at the tips. Owen occasionally complained about them, but Parker thought they were cute.

“Let go,” Owen repeated, but by now he had relaxed into Parker, and the next thing out of his mouth was a whispered, “Hold me.”

Parker buried his nose in Owen's hair, leaning back against the head board. “All I wanna do.”

Owen didn't respond, just snuggled into him and sniffled quietly. The glow lightened a bit, but it still remained.

“Don't even have enough power to call up a praetor,” he muttered eventually. Owen's magic was never much to behold, so when Red was in the low house? As several people, including one teacher, had put it, 'pathetic.'

“I can make one if you want,” Parker offered. If people were giving his boyfriend a hard time when he couldn't do much to defend himself, there would be hell to pay.

“I'm okay.”

“No, really. Little cat, big lion...”

“I'm okay.”

“Alright.”

They sat there in silence until the glow was gone.

“I wouldn't mind a praetor,” said Owen.

“You want me to try to make Krissy?” asked Parker.

“Actually, I was thinking a lion sounds good.”

“Lion? Want me to make that tonight or tomorrow?”

“In the morning.”

“You wanna go down to dinner, or...?”

“Yeah.”

“Ready to go down?”

“Not quite yet,” said Owen, extracting himself from Parker's arms and turning around to face him. “Wanna stay here for a little while?”

“Sure,” Parker replied, leaning forwards as one of Owen's hands went to his hair.

Yeah, they'd be here for a while.

 


End file.
